journal
by lycorix
Summary: a short journal entry describing Methos attempts at pulling Duncan out of his brooding with the help of an old friend. set after the season finale, but should be considered au.


Don't own anything.

Just having some fun with the guys.

Enjoy :o)

Journal

2005 - christian calendar

How did they put it? … Runaway, runaway sensation. Exactly. Monthy python if I recall correctly. That expression pretty much described the feeling I had at that moment. Seing Duncan slowly walk up the stairs, sword again firmly in his hand, did nothing to alleviate those thoughts. My car stood only a few hundred yards away, at the entrance of the building and it took all the will power I had to just stand there and not run like a bat out of hell. Admittedly, the fact that I have a very strong survival instinct had something to do with it as well. It's probably the only reason I stayed where I was. Standing over the dead body of an immortal, that had been hunting me for centuries. Not dead-dead as in dead-headless, mind, but dead as in the sword through-his-heart-dead sense. I'm just not sure if McLeod was mad at me, or just at the fact that it had been so much easier for me to take the guy down, than it was for him. I wondered wether I should have told him about the sedative. On second thought: better not. Things were bad already and telling him how I had used some ... lets call them: slightly inproper methods to gain the upper hand here, would probably upset him even more.

But I should start at the beginning.

I'm just a girl. True that is the old guys line, but we have an open relationship, he won't mind if I use it ... I hope. Amanda would call me boring, does it occasionally too and Ramirez used to bug me about being cold hearted and careless. Wether they are right remains to be seen, I still don't know myself. But they are both entitled to call me whatever they want, because they are my friends. So is ... no was, and I still can't believe what's happened to him, but so was Darius. I liked him much for the same reasons most others did. He was kind, never judged anyone and always tried to help. I could be a pain in the ass, but that can be said for every immortal, I guess, but he never minded … much. Ramirez and I were approx. of the same age and since Rebecca introduced us two millenia ago, we were close. I think his loss, was the reason I got involved with the McLeod clan in the first place. Ramirez was always so proud of Connor, I just had to meet the man. It was interesting to say the least, but after a while I actually came to like him. We were more alike than I would have thought, ignoring his boy scout attitude. A rather distracting feature he just had to pass on to Duncan as well. Anyway, I had never met the younger of the two until about two years ago.

A man turned up in Brussels. Studying politics at the time, I sat in a rather crowded class room listening to a lecture. I've had a weird feeling all week, that now turned into a full grown immortal buzz. My hand automatically reached to the long tubelike carrier, design students usually had. I used it to conceal my sword within. At the same time my eyes swept the three entrances several rows above me. The stranger of course had to choose the one directly behind me, making it unable for me to see him right away. I had chosen that seat for two reasons. One, it was at the outermost side of the huge room close to two exits, the one above and the one beneath me. The second reason was, I was able to see everyone enter and leaving. I made it a habit of locking the door, so noone could get in and sneak up on me, at the same time enabling me to a fast escape, should the need arise. The lock was electrical and I was the only one that had a remote to it. A short mail to the head of the university from the right end had ascertained the door would be left alone by anyone. Apparently a building analyst had come to the conclusion the opening would compromise the buildings structural integrity or something like that. Nobody dared touching the door after that. Anyway it looked good on paper and had worked perfectly. So far at least. I felt the hair on my neck rise, but at the same time couldn't get up, or he would know where I was. Who I was. I hated it. A few minutes later, my whole body already screaming to get up and run, a small white paper airplane landed on the desk before me. I opened it slowly and relaxed almost immediately.

Gen,

need to talk to you. Campus bar, tonight.

Guy.

Short and clear to the point. That was almost typical for the man. I'm saying almost, because over the years I had noticed that he was actually able to be nice as well. Usually not to me, but who counts, eh? On the other hand the more he would have said the less inclined I would have been to believe him. More words usually means more lies with that man. What i really found amusing was the fact that he still used that name. It's not that I didn't know his true identity, after all, he told me personally, but honestly that name is just horrible.

When I walked into the bar that night, he was already waiting, my favorite Cocktail sitting on the table across from him. He clearly wanted something.

oooOOOooo

Several months later I finally moved to Paris. It had taken a bit of work to set up the little game of his, but for once Methos did something that benefitted someone else, rather than himself. That more than anything else threw me for a complete loop. But I owed him one, so decided to go along with his little plan. The tricky bit would be to cover my identity. Especially considering Duncan McLeods social habits. But more to that later. It was intriguing to finally meet the man, after all the stories I had been told. I found myself somehow looking forward to that little adventure.

The plan itself was simple. Get the man to forget his past failings, his former student and everything to do with these few restless years, the deaths he had to endure and get him to concentrate back on life. Sounds simple? Let me tell you it's not. Adams idea, by the way couldn't the man choose a less ordinary name for a change, was to get him a new student. One that would be able to take care of himself, watch out for the brooding scot and teach him one or two lessons about noninvolvement. As it is rather difficult to come across someone to fit these requirements, Adam finally asked me. The first hurdle was going to be masking my buzz. Or he'd know right away.

In the end I subscribed to one of his classes at the Sorbonne, with Adam being constantly nearby, pestering the scot and masking my buzz with his much stronger one. It was weird for me, to have the same muted impression from McLeod as the old mans presence tuned it down for me in the same way. He felt like a preimmortal. It made me wonder how Methos knew of that side effect of his, and if he had used it before.

Anyway, the perfect opportunity to actually die in front of McLeods eyes came a few weeks later. Both men were walking a few meters behind me, talking about some thing or other, me and a couple girls meanwhile giggling about a joke one of the guys had made during class. Close to the houses opposite the school were a few children playing soccer, when suddenly the small ball flew across the street, coming to a stop on the grass in front of us. i went to pick it up for the boys, tossing it back. the ball hit a tree instead, bouncing back onto the street. Adam caught on immediately and managed to signal the cardriver a couple meters further down, while the boy ran after his ball. Everything after that happened so fast I barely remember it. A few hours later I woke back up, with both Methos and Duncan leaning over me. A bit of some hollywood worthy acting, Adams coaxing, a plane ticket and i had a new teacher, or would that be student?

Completely unexpected by both me and Adam, the Highlander removed one of our biggest problems for us.

We moved to Kapstadt a week later. Duncan had decided that I shouldn't be introduced to his immortal friends, before T didn't have a thorough education in immortality 101, which was perfect, as quiet a few of his friends knew me. Some better, some some less, but they would have been able to ruin our hard work in a heartbeat.

It didn't take long and I began to understand why the man had intrigued Methos so much. I started to like him too, even to feel like a student again. I was able to taste a little freedom, from the constant worries. It felt good to have someone watch your back. Noone had done that for me in decades. I even enjoyed the evenings at the bar, which his watcher opened up near the river. Joseph Dawson was an interesting man. For a mortal anyhow. And he had good beer. Although he seemed to miss Adam quiet a bit. I guess he had seen that side of the oldtimer, the one that irritated me so much, whenever we meet. The scraps of wisdom, the riddles, the witty conversations, the glimpses of his past, … that certainly could drive any watcher insane. Between the two of them I let my guard down, just enough to have some fun with them, but it eventually caused the whole situation to collapse in on itself. It might have been the moment that Duncan caught me talking to some of the native africans in their mother tongue, or maybe the dig I made at joe about getting old, but they started to clam up on me. Slowly at first but then they stopped their conversations when I entered the room, or just didn't tell me about other immortals being in town anymore. However, over the course of two months our relationship deteriorated quicker than expected. Ironic really. I started to open up, reveal more about myself and they started to withdraw. I figured it was time to leave and wrote an email to my friend. Hoping Adam would have an idea.

The following day everything went to hell. It started out normally enough with Duncan and me playing chess in the bar. I was getting worse everytime we played and Joe tried to help in any way he could, when we both felt it. The buzz. I jumped up, grabbed my sword and was about to leave through the back door, when the stranger entered. I recognised him immediately. The brown leather coat, dark skin, tall muscled figure, I even remembered the purplish eye color. I wonder wether Rakesh was even slightly aware of the situation before him. Without consideration he advanced at me, speaking in low tones in an old language, I was sure Duncan didn't know. What he said, however was easy enough to crasp. He wanted to kill me. The man only stopped when the Highlanders bulk solidly materialized before him.

"This isn't about you." Rakesh growled at him, again setting his eyes on me. I was about to reply, when Duncan did.

"It is when you try to kill my student. You want a fight, you have to take it up with me." with that the stupid, selfish, suicidal boy scout took his coat. A moment later they both left the bar, with Rakesh casting a last look back. I stuck my tongue out at him. What else was there to do, right? He just grinned ... and was gone.

Joseph Dawson however fixed me with a very serious glare. I couldn't have left the room if I wanted to, and don't get me wrong i really really wanted to, wanted to run, get on the next plane, Tahiti maybe and never look back. Instead I tightenend the grip on my sword, trying to outstare the watcher. In the end it was me who relented. I might be a bitch, when it comes to my fellow immortals, but not with the mortals. Never with the youngsters. I've had enough children and lovers among them, to know how much they can hurt. And I know ever since Joe had had to leave his daughter Amy behind in paris, he kind of looked out for me, associated me with her.

I fell in the chair conveniently set behind me, hiding my face in my hands. The gesture was a little awkward with the blade still clutched in my right hand, but I wasn't going to put it aside, not now not like this. It was after all the only friend an immortal has. True, Joe deserved an explanation, and so did Duncan, come to think of it, but I didn't know if I could give it to them. They were both friends, but although weaknesses. And those I tried to keep to a minimum. While Joe wouldn't be around for long, in the grand scheme of things anyway, Duncan was an altogether different matter, especially with his uncanny ability to find trouble. A small voice asked me a question then, and it took me a moment to figure out who it was, when it suddenly hit me.

"Is he going to win?" Joe asked. Having made connections I didn't expect. Then and there I decided: what the heck.

"No." I almost yelled it, and in a great wide arc let the sword slip from my hand and crash into the far wall. In a matter of seconds I had rushed to the forward section of the bar counter and retrieved a carefully concealed sword from the smooth wood. It had a great feel to it. Especially after the too long, too light saber I had gotten from Duncan. The double edged blade blinked at me in anticipation.

"But i'll make sure that it won't come to that." I added for the stunned watcher, rushing to the door. "You coming?" I yelled back, before getting into the old Ford, i drove here and backing out of the parking lot. A moment later Joe sat beside me, staring at me disbelievingly. He knew better than to ask me anything at the moment, but I could see how he memorized every tiny detail that was occuring, and his eyes assured me the questions would come later.

oooOOOooo

It took us approx. 20 minutes to get to our destination. I knew instinctivly where the two combatants were headed. Here on the outscirts of the city was really just one place that was deserted enough to be safe. The old harbour district in the south. I ran a quick calculation through my head, taking into account the headstart the two men had and the probably faster cars. They had a good ten minutes on me. Reaching the right street I simultanueosly stepped on the brakes, killed the engine and jumped out of the car. Joe was close behind. I saw the open door right away and slowly crept towards it. At that moment I couldn't allow a single mistake to be made and needed to gain information more than anything. I heard the two men fighting before I saw them. Slowly I stepped into the building, trying to stay out of buzzing range. I thought if I could distract Rakesh enough with my presence, McLeod would be able to get him. Unfortunatley both of them noticed me at the same time, distroying that plan.

A moment later they were once again concentrating on the battle, ignoring me. I allowed myself a quick look around. We were in one of the huge fabrication halls, the fish industry used until a couple of years ago. Duncan and I had been here more than once, practicing. The hall was two stories high, with us being on the top one at the moment. The lower story reached out to the water and lay in darkness. I could smell the seawater from here. I've always loved that particular salty smell, that just made you long for a swim in the ocean. I could also see Joe entering the hall, over to my right. He was leaning heavily on his cane, a pair of binoculars pressed to his eyes. Instinctively I followed his gaze, snapping out of my thoughts and back on the situation. I remembered that particular spot, where the two combatant were at the moment circling each other. Lots of tubes and a net were deposited there. If Duncan remembered it too, he would be able to use it to his advantage. However he seemed oblivious to everything around him.

He was a bit like Connor in that matter. Strong arms holding the Katana firmly before him, taking every blow in stride, never still, always moving. Concentrating on his battle. Eyes on his opponents blade. Personally I prefered to keep my eyes locked on my enemy rather than his weapon. Might give one more cuts and bruises in the short run but also an advantage in the long run. The eyes always betrayed the intentions. As it was Duncan now stepped backwards parying several powerful blows from Rakesh, then suddenly he lunged forward using a small opening the taller man had given him, bringing the Katana down to the final blow. I watched paralyzed. Totally focused on the swing Duncan didn't notice what I saw. A dagger appeared in Rakeshs hand. It was buried in McLeods abdomen, before I could react. Helplessly I watched on, when Duncan swayed, the sword falling out of his hands. The sound of steel clattering against concrete suddenly gave me an idea. Without another thought I pulled the small 9mm from the small of my back and put two precise shots in the Highlanders chest. The impact was strong enough to send him a few feet backwards. Right over the edge, to the floor below.

I could hear bones break, but at that moment chose to ignore it. Rakesh was now looking at me. He had known I wouldn't let him end this fight. I must have.

"So, decided to fight your own battles now?" he said, waiting for me. Slowly I made my way to him. I didn't want to fight, hadn't taken a head in decades and wasn't planning to just now, but the man, that had hunted me for such along time just kept coming back. He needed to be taught a lesson. My sword lay still in my right hand, another dagger just like his concealed within my boot, the twin to the weapon I had used earlier was tugged away within my own coat. My thoughts raced while I advanced on Rakesh. Which weapon to choose, which strategy to use. In the end he decided for me. The clattering of sword on sword, the heavy damp athmosphere, the knowledge of a Watcher lurking nearby and the soft groans coming from below slowly began to grate on his nerves. He was young, didn't have the ability to tune out the unimportant. His purple eyes so confident in the beginning began to loose their spark. Within a few strikes I had him where I needed him, only an arms length from my left coat pocket. A faked attack to the right had him distractet long enough for my left hand to snake down, get a hold on the small syringe and swap his arm with the sedative. He never even realized.

It took me only two more strikes and his sword clattered to the ground shortly followed by the man himself.

"Another century at the very least, Rakesh, my friend." I said, holding him down with my foot firmly planted on his chest. His eyes were glazed. I took his sword from it's resting place near his head and plunged it into his heart. Only when I couldn't feel another tremor go through his body did I look up. Joe had somehow, sometime moved. He was closer now. Standing in the same spot from where I had shot Duncan. And the Scot, I could hear him below. Could hear his angry mutterings. He was mad.

oooOOOooo

And that was it, the moment my mind did another one of these spectacular backflips, bringing me to Monthy Python and the runaway runaway scenario. Seing Duncan slowly walk up the stairs, sword again firmly in his hand, did nothing to alleviate those thoughts. My car stood only a few hundred yards away, at the entrance of the building and it took all the will power I had to just stand there and not run like a bat out of hell. Admittedly, the fact that I have a very strong survival instinct had something to do with it as well. It's probably the only reason I stayed where I was. I'm just not sure if McLeod was mad at me, or just at the fact that it had been so much easier for me to take the guy down, than it was for him. I wondered wether I should have told him about the sedative. On second thought: better not. Things were bad already and telling him how I had used some ... lets call them: slightly inproper methods, to gain the upper hand here, would probably upset him even more. What I didn't expect when he slowly made his way over to me however, was him suddenly lunging at me, sword pointed to my chest.

Using his anger for me, it took only a few strikes before I had disarmed him. We were standing across from each other, panting.

"Who the hell are you?" he asked. And what do you answer to that?

Want a sequel? Tell me. Please :o)


End file.
